More about Molly

You (probably) already know I have a wild, sedate, smart as a whip, persuasive border collie/Australian Cattle Dog (if you didn't know that, please see my previous posts). To be more exact, she has me. The Cattle Dog part of her (mongrel, Smithfield, dingo, Bull Terrier, dingo, Dalmation, dingo, and Highland Rough Collie) results in all sorts of behaviors. You name it, she does it.

Wild Molly: Sometimes, she just can’t stand it any longer. Out of the blue, she will begin to run in the house. She has adjusted, mostly, to living with two old people and having a very tiny back yard to hang out in. But sometimes she begins to run without warning–from one point to another, like she is following a program. She touches base with an object, a chair, a bit of dust on the floor (well there are lots of bits of dust on the floor), one of her toys, something, and then turns on a dime and rushes over to another target chosen at random, and returns joyously, as though she is accomplishing a task and being repaid for it. Occasionally the run will happen on the stairs, and she chooses a particular step in the string of steps and noses it, (You’re IT!) And returns to the landing, reverses herself, back to the chosen step, and returns, and I mean FAST. She stops just before exhaustion takes over, but she seems very satisfied. I encourage her. I yell out, Run, Molly, RUN! And she does. We can’t do this if my husband is present, but we manage to accomplish this exercise quite frequently.

Sedate Molly. She sits and looks at me. And Looks at me. She is trying to fathom what makes me tick, what I am up to next. She is ready for anything, but she would like a clue as to what it would be.

Smart as a whip Molly. She knows many commands: “Go find the ball!” “Eat your food.” “Want a drink?” “Do you want to go for a ride?” “Molly’s place!” “Molly Up!” “Stop that!” Then, “Go find Mr. Treat!” prompts her to find her Kong and drop it at my feet in the kitchen, where she waits patiently as I stuff it with doggy goodies, return it to her, and she runs into the living room, lies down on the Persian Rug, and begins to harass the Kong until it divulges the contents. I hope that whoever invented the Kong is making a fortune, $9 for a little plastic thingy, but it sure does give her pleasure, and me peace for about 10 minutes.

Molly the persuader. When she wants something, like "Play ball?" she will begin to whine while she drops the toy at my feet. If nothing happens, she will come up to me and sit. Next she will put both paws on the chair I am in. Next, both paws, one at a time, go on my shoulders. Then gently, oh so gently, she will lower her 65 pound, lithe, muscular torso down on my fat, fragile body so she is in a position to lick my face. The crowning gesture is, she will lay her majestic head upon my once lusty bosum. I swear that if she could smile or smirk, that would be displayed. We call this the bear hug. It’s better than chocolate.

Now, if she whines in front of the door, it is poop time. That gets immediate response.

When we are in Arizona, I use PetSmart for vets. They seem to be mostly young, female, probably recently graduated from school. They are very enthusiastic about Molly, just as she is enthusiastic about them. They comment about her shiny coat, her lack of restraint, her otherwise Attitude. They ask, “What do you feed her?” Expecting to hear, I suppose, one of the high dollar dog foods. I tell them, “Purina.” They seem surprised. They tell me, she should be trained to be an agility dog. Now, agility dog trainers in Phoenix make about the same amount of money as a licensed plumber, so that option has so far been denied her. Here in rural Colorado, her vet pulls calves, doctors horses, wears cowboy clothes, and is kind of laconic, John Wayne style. So she has the best of both worlds.

I’ve taken her up to the cabin in the woods twice. She is really excited about a new place, new smells, a different environment. I’ve got to find a sheep ranch that is fenced, has trainer dogs, with herders who have lots of patience. Then maybe, just maybe, Molly won’t have to herd invisible sheep inside the house.